Poem: For Me

For Me.

 

I strut through streets

With heels sky high.

It’s not for you.

 

I paint thick, black lines

On my eyes; feline.

It’s not for him.

 

My nails are long,

Round, painted bright.

It’s not for her.

 

My hair is ironed

Pin straight, down my back.

It’s not for them.

 

My body and face are my art.

That extra thirty minutes?

It’s for me.

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